glanced at the woman who’d spoken. She was tall and slender and very beautiful.
“Very.”
“I love Picasso’s work, before he started doing the abstract stuff.”
“Me, too. He reminds me a little of Pissaro in some of his early work.”
“I’m not that familiar with Pissaro. Just Picasso. Are you in town for the race?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I saw you at the party in Melbourne. My boyfriend is Keke Heckler.”
“He’s on the same team as Marco Moretti.” Virginia didn’t know if Marco had mentioned her after their night together. She realized that she hoped he hadn’t. She didn’t really want anyone to know about what had happened between them, especially since she had no idea how he’d felt the next morning.
She’d left while he was sleeping, afraid that if she stayed there in his arms, she’d forget her plans and resolve and just stay with Marco until he tired of her. Leaving like that was something that she suspected her own mother had done with Virginia’s father.
“Yes, he is. We didn’t meet at the party, but I saw you dancing with Marco. I’m Elena Hamilton.”
“I’m Virginia,” she said.
“I have a confession,” Elena said. “I followed you here because I was curious about you.”
Virginia tensed. “Why?”
“Because Marco has been asking about you. Questioning everyone, to see if they know your last name or where you went. Keke said he’s never seen Marco so angry when he thinks no one is looking.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Marco’s like a brother to Keke. And I’ve come to know Marco, as well. He means a lot to me, and I don’t want to see him being used.”
Virginia was glad to hear that. Glad that Marco had good friends who looked out for him. “I’m not using him.”
Elena glared at her. “I don’t believe you. Just know that I’m watching you.”
Virginia nodded as the other woman walked away. It might be harder than she’d thought to have a second night with Marco.
Marco finished the Catalonia Grand Prix in second place, but he didn’t mind not winning this week. Keke had been unstoppable on the track. His friend and teammate had a string of good luck going that stemmed in part from his recent engagement to Elena.
Marco smiled along with everyone else. Dominic was happy, because a win for the Moretti team kept them ahead of Ferrari and Audi, which was really all Dom cared about.
Marco rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he wasn’t as joy-filled as he should be. He needed to get away from Keke and the rest of the crowd.
He started to leave when he saw the familiar brown hair that he’d been searching for at each race since Melbourne. Virginia.
She was here. And he was going to get some damned answers about where she’d been and who she really was.
Fans swarmed around him as he made his way over to her. He didn’t have time for smiles or photos, but he made himself take the time. His popularity was one of the things that was important to the success of Moretti Motors. He signaled Carlos, his security guard.
“Keep that woman here,” he said, pointing to Virginia.
“Yes, sir,” Carlos said, and went to Virginia’s side. She arched one eyebrow at him and he guessed that she didn’t like that he was keeping her from leaving. Too bad.
He took his time flirting with the women fans who were always waiting for him. They liked to pose with him and have their pictures taken. Today while Virginia was waiting, he said no to no one.
Why was she back? he wondered as the last of the fans moved away. He signaled to Carlos to bring Virginia to him. She didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to give her any further ground. He was in charge, and it was about time she figured that out.
She slowly walked toward him, hips swaying with each step, drawing his eyes to her body. He was intimately familiar with her curves and longed to touch her again. When she was within arm’s reach, he took her wrist in his hand and pulled her to him.
She gasped as her body came into contact with his. He was hot and sweaty from the race and he was pumped with adrenaline and something else. Something he didn’t want to define.
“Hello, Marco.”
“Bongiorno, Virginia.”
“You raced well today,” she said.
She was nervous. And that pleased him. She should be leery of him. He’d never hurt her physically, but he was angry with her and he wanted her to know it.
He cupped her jaw gently and tilted her head back. “I want answers.”
“I’ll give them to you,” she said. Her eyes were wet as he lowered his head, taking her mouth with his.
This was no gentle seduction. He meant to be masterful, to remind her that he wasn’t a man to be toyed with. That his passion—and hers—belonged to him.
He forced her lips wide and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She clung to his shoulders, her fingers gripping him tightly.
He heard a small sigh escape her and he softened his embrace—wrapped one arm around her and hugged her to him. God, he wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he’d missed her.
“Come with me,” he said. The track wasn’t the place for this kind of reunion. She nodded, speechless, and he led her to the motor home he used as a dressing room and place to relax at the races.
He had a million questions to ask, but touching and caressing her made him want to take her. He needed to establish his dominance over her. She’d left him, and while it was true that one-night stands weren’t out of the ordinary for him, he’d always been the one to leave.
“Why did you leave the way you did?”
She folded her arms. Her short, emerald-green designer dress brought out the creaminess of her skin. He tried not to notice.
“I…I didn’t want to wait around for you to tell me to leave.”
“Why do you believe I would have done that?”
“Marco, I know the type of man you are.”
“What kind of man am I?” he asked, curious to know what she thought she knew about him.
“You have a reputation of living fast and large on the track and off. And I knew, just as I know now, that a simple girl from Long Island has little chance of slowing you down for long.”
There was a certain amount of truth to that. But he
